Word Count: 1827

~Avila

I stare down at the paper in front of me, my scrawlings so ambiguous in nature, anyone watching me would have no idea what I'm trying to convey.

It turns out, whatever artistic abilities I had before I lost my life are now gone, because I can't muster up anything half decent.

Groaning, I drop the coloured pencil, resting my forehead against the desk.

Who am I?

The sound of shuffling feet have me whirling around in my seat in panic. Despite being the middle of the day, my mind immediately jumped into assuming it would be Emerick visiting me again.

"It's okay, it's just me," Vade soothes, stepping into the room. "I wanted to bring you this. Roel asked me to."

He holds a pile of books out to me, seeming uncomfortable. He generally avoids me at all costs, so I imagine Roel really had to push him to come bring me some books.

I take them gently, resting them on the desk.

The way we are standing reminds me of the flashback I had yesterday. We are in a similar position, and instead of flowers, he's giving me books.

Yet the dynamic between us is completely different. I'm the nervous one trying to impress him now.

"What are they about?" I ask, shifting through them curiously.

"Some history on the Territories, your family and the political system," he responds.

I bury my hand in my hair, sweeping it away from my face. The moment I'm around Vade, I'm immediately anxious. Something about the way he looks at me sends a chill through me in the most erotic way. It feels shameful to think about, but I'm painfully attracted to the cold, distant man in front of me.

I wish I felt different...I wish I could hate him like he hates me. But I don't.

"Thank you," I breathe, studying him sheepishly.

He nods his head before turning away, ducking it down slightly to pass through my door frame.

"Wait, Vade..."

He pauses, turning back. There's something like hope in his eyes, although it's quiet amongst everything else. The resentment, the distrust, the irritation.

"I used to draw, right?" I say awkwardly, motioning to the desk. "I had a flashback about it."

His dark eyes tentatively shift to the desk. I can see the apprehension, considering I've snapped at him before for trying to look at my drawings.

There's nothing to look at now anyways. It's frankly embarrassing.

"You were an incredible artist. You could turn anything into a beautiful painting. I've always been envious of that ability," he muses, his breathing evening out.

"You no longer have to be...I can't draw anymore." I pick up the piece of paper, holding it up in front of him.

He raises a brow at my attempt at drawing the gardens outside. The slightest hint of amusement plays at his lips.

"Strange."

"It's like I know I should be able to, but I can't physically bring my hand to create anything," I grumble, balling the paper up before tossing it hopelessly onto the desk.

Vade levels a look, uncertainty playing on his expression. It's like he wants to say more, but he can't decide if he actually wants to engage. To engage means to have a real conversation with me, and he's clearly scared of that.

"Roel may know what's going on..." He steps back.

"What if he doesn't. What if there are no answers?" I question. My fear is real, but in reality, I want to keep pulling him back.

I don't want him to walk away...I don't want him to pretend like I don't exist.

"Then that is a reality you must live with," he says. "There are far worse things than being who you once were."

I twist the ring on my finger. It's become a nervous habit, although knowing it belonged to the version of me before death is unnerving, especially after what Vade has said.

Plus, I was buried with it on. I really need to get rid of it.

"I don't like not having answers. I'm sick of not knowing anything," I mutter, running my hands down my face.

"You should speak to Roel. He may be able to comfort you."

Once again Vade turns away.

"Wait." If he thinks I'll leave him alone for the remainder of this marriage, he's a fool. I need him to see the real me.

Or what I think is the real me.

"I feel alone. Scared," I whisper, twisting my fingers around each other anxiously. Vade doesn't seem like the type to ridicule me, but it doesn't make it any easier to be vulnerable with him either.

He swallows thickly, monitoring my face with a softening gaze.

"The drawing ability will come to you Avila. There's likely a block on your mind with all this stress," he says. "And even if it never comes back, that's okay. You're here, you're alive, and you can be whoever you want to be. That's all that matters."

I exhale slowly, his words strangely helpful. The are honest too, like he actually wants me to feel better.

"Did I often seduce you?" I ask abruptly.

Vade draws in a sharp breath, suffering a sudden onslaught of memories.

"For fun, yes. Also for opportunity," he tells me. "I would fetch you things, keep an eye out for your family members when you wanted to sneak out during the night..."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I would think that's okay." I shift from foot to foot, wondering what was going through my head.

Could I not see that Vade is a perfectly good guy to be paired with? I understand why I was angry about my fate, but it seems unreasonable for me to have taken it out on him.

The only plausible reason was that I was a bad person.

"No one ever knew what was truly going on in your head, Avila," he murmurs lowly.

"Why would I seduce you?"

"You knew I was attracted to you, that I wanted to make our marriage work," he answers. "You saw my desire for you as a weakness, and you exploited it."

I shudder, looking away. So Emerick was right, Vade has always wanted me. Now he's guarding his heart, trying to keep me away to protect himself. He tried to make it work, and now I'm the one scrambling to do so.

When I look back, he's staring at me with a renewed intensity, putting into question how he feels about me now.

There's so much he isn't telling me, but his eyes tell me a lot...

He still cares about me. He doesn't trust me, but there is something in him that wants this to work out. Something in him that doesn't want to hurt me.

"I apologise for being so cruel." There's a bitter taste in my mouth, the guilt continuing to pull away at me, to make a mess out of me.

Vade looks down, his brows furrowing. "I know you're sorry."

"But you doubt that it won't happen again," I say matter-of-factly.

He rubs a hand down his face before he focuses on me. "There was a time, Avila, that I would have done terrible things to get close to you, to touch you."

I blink at his sudden admission. He takes a step toward me, his masculine scent rushing over me. I remain still, as if any movement might cause him to back up again.

And for some reason I like the sight of him looming over me, looking down at me with a harsh, soul searching stare.

"You never let me close. You made me think I had a chance with you, and when I reached out, you backed away," he says lowly, standing so close I can feel the heat of his breath as if fans across my face.

I swallow thickly, fighting the urge to bite my lip as Vade's silvery eyes shift down to them.

"I was using you," I say. I sound like I'm repenting for something, like he's a god that requires my forgiveness.

The weight of his observation presses against every inch of skin his eyes pass over. Heat curls in my stomach and I fight the urge to reach out to touch him.

"I can't have you like I always wanted. I can't even think about it." He closes his eyes for a moment, fighting for composure before he lets out a slow breath, his jaw tightening.

My throat is dry, blood pulsing in my veins. "Wanted?"

He bows his head, shaking it. "You won't give yourself to me. Even now, you won't."

"Vade..."

He pulls away a couple steps, like he can't stand being close to me. Like he's scared of what he will do if he does.

"How often are you having flashbacks?" He questions, digging his hand into his slightly too-long locks.

I rub my arm, trying not to think of what may have happened had he stayed that close...what I wanted to happen. I'm so attracted to Vade it feels wrong, especially since there's not much I know about the world right now.

But that one feeling feel's right, even if it shouldn't.

"I've only had a few, and they are completely random," I admit.

"You should talk to Roel." He's back to being withdrawn and unreachable suddenly. It's his default position when he is around me.

He turns away, but I stop him again. "You keep walking away from me."

"I don't know what you want, Avila," he urged.

"I'm not that person anymore," I insist desperately. Every time he turns his back on me and walks away, I feel like a part of me is being torn out. "I may not know who I am, but I'm not going to torture you like that again."

"All that matters is you are going to have to re-engage with your Kingdom, which isn't going to be easy. You should concentrate on that, before the relationship between us," he says as he steps backward toward the door.

My legs tremble as I try to match his steps. "It doesn't look like I have any choice in whether I marry you or not..."

If I could free him from the burden of being tied to me, I would. It would hurt, but I would do it since it's clearly what he so desperately wants.

"You could always run away." He shrugs with one shoulder. "It wouldn't be the first time."

I frown. Is that something he wants? From his biting tone, I doubt it. He's just being defensive, but it still hurts.

"I have nowhere else to go..." I whisper.

His jaw settles into a hard line. "Then we will marry."

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~Midika 💜🐼